Ghost Symphony
by BelovedSlayer
Summary: Buffy discovers that Angel is a figment of her imagination. Or he is?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Ghost Symphony

TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Author: Beloved Slayer

Rating: T

Summary: Buffy discovers that Angel is a figment of her imagination.

Author's Note: This is just a quick one shot. The idea was compiled in my head recently. It's alternate universe, with some canon. Please let me know if you would like me to make this story more lengthy. If so, I'll resume working on it as soon as my internet is fixed again. Enjoy guys!

Chapter One

"Everything that we did?"

"It never happened," came the voice that I was all too familiar with. Angel's.

"It did! It did! I know it did. I felt your heart beat," I hear the voice running through my head. It was my own. Impossible as I never remembered saying those words when I returned from the City of Angels that year.

I was dreaming, I was sure of it. I felt my eyes close, the piles of heavy comforters and sheets blanketing over me, the curtains fluttering in the cool breeze that was entering my room as if it claimed it as its own. Then suddenly as the strange memory came, it vanished without a trace, leaving no remains behind whatsoever.

For five minutes, I struggled to reclaim it, but somehow, it blanketed out of my mind. The words that I had apparently said to him were now gone. Forever. And something, or someone, had viciously taken it from me. The images of my Angel, I couldn't conjure any longer.

I squinted my eyes more forcefully, my lashes mere crescents as I tried to remember his scent, his lips, his kisses, his embraces, the way he would fight alongside myself in the constant battle against the forces of evil.

Nothing. Then the moment I feared arrived. I didn't remember who he was, or whether or not he existed. The question I suddenly hated was now brought up in my thoughts. Who was Angel? Did he exist? Why did I dreamed of him, especially at a moment when I didn't remember of it ever happening?

The questions themselves had also quickly disappeared from my mind, and all that was left was a blank of nothingness and uncertainty. Opening my eyes and tossing the covers vehemently aside, I slipped on a pair of flat heels, reaching for my black and red adorned robe. I sauntered through the open window carefully, landing on my feet, the grass moist and dew like.

Everything that I used to know about this man had inexplicably disappeared, but somehow, I remembered the place he used to take up residence. The mansion. Arms pumping at my sides, I made my arrival towards the front entrance, the residence obviously empty of occupants.

No one was there. The mansion was quiet and utterly lonely. I trotted through the gardens, entering the home through the double wooden doors that led to the fireplace, my eyes taking in the surroundings. It was dark, but my eyes were immediately adjusting to it.

I sensed nothing familiar about him here. No familiar tingle that I would get whenever he was home, or the bed that he had seemingly occupied once a long time ago. Even that had been wiped from my memory. My brows furrowed in confusion. Was it all just in my mind? Did he not exist?

I fell to my knees, tears spilling as I mourned the loss of a man that may possibly not have existed after all. And strangely, the half part of me felt empty and hollow, like an incomplete puzzle. But logically, I decided that it was just a figment of my imagination. But I stubbornly remained there, mourning until the early hours of dawn.

Somewhere in the universe above, an ancient being scoffed and laughed at the Slayer's turmoil. "Didn't I tell you that the spell would work? It did, didn't it?" One masked being with a crown of thorns adorning his head spoke.

"Very much so. I'm very impressed with your work. Well done. And now with her lover out of the way, we can begin what was started all those eons ago."

The universe was filled with their cruel laughter, and the Slayer continued to mourn and weep until the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Ghost Symphony

TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Author: Beloved Slayer

Rating: T

Summary: Buffy discovers that Angel is just a figment of her imagination. Or is he?

Author's Note: Originally a one shot. I know this story may be a bit unusual in that it may be teetering towards angst/supernatural thriller or suspense, but I do believe in that it never hurts to venture into other themes once in a while besides the usual happy ever after/fluff stories. I was intending to make this chapter more longer than the previous one, but I decided to keep them short instead of dragging them on. Anyways, thanks to all of you who left reviews. Enjoy chapter two!

Chapter Two

Dawn was approaching. I could feel the sun's rays welcoming itself through the open ceilings above me. I hadn't moved an inch since I arrived here last night. The tears hadn't stopped then; they still continued. I still placed myself in mourning, my head now buried in the palms of my hands, the fingers splayed through tendrils of my roused hair.

If I stayed any longer, my body temperature would plummet and the threat of catching the cold or pneumonia would rise. It wasn't exactly a mansion created out of mere love or homely comfort; it was isolating, not to mention, freezing. I had to leave this place. Somehow, I couldn't force myself to unfold my legs. They held firmly in place against my will.

I remembered nothing. Even the reason for why I had cried in the first place came up empty. Whatever lingering memories I had left, they were suddenly gone. The existence of Angel was officially no longer present, and my soul entered a despair that I had never experienced until late last night.

The puzzle pieces that used to complete me no longer did. It was no longer a part of what made me into who I was.

With that realization, fresh tears pooled at my eye ducts, blurring my vision. Too absorbed with my grief, I hadn't noticed the mansion's structure becoming unstable, because it never was the many times I had visited it before.

To my horror and lack of observation, it was now, apparently. Seconds later, I felt a shifting beneath me as the infrastructure begin to break apart, as if it was experiencing an early morning aftershock.

"Oh, God," I muttered with worry, quickly scurrying to my feet as a tall 12th century Chinese dynasty porcelain vase behind me abruptly tumbled to the floor, shattering. The mass ceilings were trembling, breaking apart and separating into intricate cracks. Less than a minute later, they fell in shambles, one narrowing missing me by a few inches.

I turned and sprinted towards the double doors that I had entered the previous evening, venturing into the garden that bloomed with hibiscus and jasmine flowers, never aware of the fact that there was a silver item glinting underneath the falling mansion.

From where I stood, it looked like a piece of jewelry; more like a ring from what I can tell. I wonder who it belonged to? Someone must had lost it while visiting the mansion. The poor thing.

Shaking the question from my mind, I stopped in my tracks, turning to see that the mansion had ceased to exist; even the foundation was no longer there.

A nanosecond later, the shock and horror of seeing the mansion falling into piles of rubble had also been snatched from my mind. Now, the images of the mansion never existed, even while I was trying to summon the memory of just being there.

What the? I now had to try to figure out what the hell was happening, and who or what was stealing my memories.

I knew what I had to do. I had to turn to Giles.

A/N: I don't want to give too much of the plot away, but what's been happening is that there's some forces out there in the universe who are trying by any means to keep Buffy and Angel apart. With this story, I decided to try something different than the usual methods the Hellmouth would try to accomplish when it comes to keeping the Slayer and the vampire with a soul separated, with the exception of fate of course. Is Angel dead, just a figment of Buffy's imagination? Well, it's too early to say, and I don't want to answer that just yet. You'll have to wait and see. I hope the chapter is not too confusing for you guys. As always, all feedback is welcome, and the third chapter will be posted as soon as I'm able to.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sunnydale High was in close proximity; I could see the darkened building from the far left corner of my eye, the structure covered in flickering shadows that were beginning to lighten under the sun's rays. I shivered, folding my robe closer to my body to create some warmth, the wind chill dropping a few degrees simultaneously.

It didn't matter that it was already daylight, the air was still very much cold, much to my dismay and lack of proper clothing. Goose bumps were developing all over my body, and my head felt like it was catching the flu. Sweat was protruding from above my eyebrow. Maybe I was scared. Or nervous. Who knows?

I glanced up towards the sky, the thinning clouds shifting to cover the faint presence of the moon as it disappeared from the blue sky altogether.

Dawn was here, but no one was outside during this time of day. Everything was quiet, and still. I was the only one that was trotting through the empty street, and I felt alone in the world. I shivered inwardly.

It was a bit frightening, but I had more important matters to attend to. I needed answers. My feet slapping against the cement pavement, I reached the front entrance of my school, inhaling a sigh of air.

The parking lot was empty of cars, the lights weren't switched on. It was unoccupied of people.

I resumed walking, outstretching my right hand to reach for the double glass door handles, discovering that one of them was slightly ajar, as if someone had broken into the building using a crowbar. My Slayer senses immediately went on full alert, my fists balling. I had no weapons of the sort with me. I cursed under my breath for the lack of preparation. I could sense Giles scolding at me like a little child. I smiled grimly at the thought.

"C'mon, Buffy, what are you waiting for? Get inside," I scoffed at myself. I pushed the door open with a slight squeak, eyes peering at both sides before entering the school. A gust of staleness permeated the air, assaulting my nostrils.

Seconds later, I felt a heavy sensation weighing on my chest, bringing me down to my knees. And sudden memories sprang to my mind, ones that I don't remember, but were somehow mine.

The Sadie Hawkins dance. The invitations. Flashes and flashes of girls adorned in poodle skirts and colorful silk bows in their hair. The heightened giddiness at the thought of asking the boys to dance with them. The curse that brought doom for over fifty years. The shooting. The unexplainable occurrences: the yearbook slipping and falling from a shelf all on its own, the monstrous hand that pulled Xander towards his locker, a grotesque skeletal corpse with a letterman's jacket that had belonged to James. The affair.

And then, voices. "Don't walk away from me bitch!" "Love is forever." The voices vanished, leaving another memory to form in my head, revealing what appeared to be the music room. It showed an image of me, my head tilting up to reveal a tall form of a handsome man with dark hair, wearing a duster. We were kissing, and it wasn't just an ordinary kiss. It was one of passion, and longing. And an enlarged bright globe of light appeared above us, illuminating the room before disappearing.

And the one name that had whispered through my lips as soon as the kisses had discontinued had leaped from my tongue.

As quickly as it had arrived, the memories of that particular night vanished from my mind. But this time, it left behind small portions of what mattered the most at the very present. Angel.

Now the question was not as to whether or not he had existed, but as to what happened to him. Was he alive, or was he dead? At this realization, I ran through the silent hallways, heading towards my destination: The library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/

"Buffy, are you sure about this?" Giles pondered, pacing back and forth towards his office, an ancient book of spells burrowed in his aged hand. "Yes, I'm quite sure, Mr. Knowledge. Someone out there is intentionally giving me the spooks by erasing my memories of this Angel and convincing me that he never existed. I have some memories, I'm not exactly sure how long they'll last, but I don't have any idea of what kind of relationship I had with him, much less know the personal info. So what gives? Why is this happening?" I inquired, worry setting in my features. I kept my nervousness in check by chewing on my fingernails, my legs tucked underneath the elongated wooden table that was placed in the center of the library.

"Buffy, to be quite honest with you, I have never heard of any previous Slayer experiencing this event. Quite frankly, this is the first I've heard of it. Assuming that some of my calculations are correct, I believe that there may be a reason as to why your memories have vanished. I have a theory, but I'm afraid you may not like what I am about to inform you of it."

I sat on the edge of my seat, my nails digging into the table. I waited impatiently. "What kind of theory? Giles, you're giving me the wiggins. Tell me."

"Whatever relationship you and Angel have had before, it is believed that the universe, and whatever forces that may be involved with your memory loss, may be trying to disperse a warning of some sort. In that you and Angel may be what is considered to be the biggest threat to our entire existence, and to the universe in itself."

I sighed. This was much more bigger than I thought it would be. I felt my heart plummeting into my stomach in despair.

A/N: So what do you guys think? I hope the chapter is not too confusing. I intended to make the chapter longer, but time is a bit tight right now, and my internet is still unfixable until I can purchase a new router over the weekend, if possible. I've been using a relative's computer for the time being. If anyone hasn't read the season eight comics, there may be a couple of spoilers in upcoming chapters, so be warned. I'll try to post chapter four by this weekend, and my internet should be fixed by then. As always, all feedback is welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: I have no plans to continue this story as I intended to post only four chapters, but a bit of a warning, there's a tiny twist in the end. This is a psychological/suspenseful story after all, heh. This will also probably going to be my last Buffy story for a while as I'm gonna be focusing on continuing to write Love, Hate, Love, which is a True Blood ficlet(All fans of the show are encouraged and welcome to read it of course) and possibly take a break. Enjoy, and thank you for all the alerts and the story reviews. All feedback is encouraged and welcome, of course. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its' characters are owned by the awesomeness, and cruelness of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox. On to chapter four!

Chapter Four

The moment when I heard the words leaving my Watcher's mouth, it felt like it took almost an eternity to comprehend them. I couldn't breathe; It felt like my lungs were shriveling, almost suffocating me as if I was enduring a rare bout of asthma. A wave of dizziness struck me, but I regained my balance, my right hand clutching the oak chair that I was occupying only mere moments ago.

"Buffy, are you alright?" my Watcher asked in concern, his eyebrows frowning as he hovered over my shoulder. I whirled to face him.

"I don't know. Should I be? I'm not exactly overjoyed at the news, to be honest. But I don't know what to think."

I shuttered, and the urge to heave increased. I could feel the tears threatening to spill. I carried my dead weight towards the entrance of the library, focusing on nothing else but the horrid revelation, my eyes on the floor, closed into slits. Then something stirred beside me, bringing goose bumps to develop on my cold skin, like a gust of cold wind had somehow entered through an invisible window.

And a voice. It was faint, but distinctive. A male voice. One that I was vaguely familiar with. I tried to conjure up the name, but it came up blank and unknown on my lips.

"Buffy."

"Is that you...Angel? Is that your name? I don't remember," I muttered to myself, uncertain, my voice too low for Giles to detect.

"Buffy. Help me," I heard the man called Angel plead in earnest, his voice on the edge of desperation and fear. The tingling sensation in my stomach increased tenfold, and I felt a pain now weighing heavily against my chest.

I fell to my knees. Something was happening to him, and it wasn't of the good sort. "Buffy!" Giles cried, and I heard his steps rapidly approaching from behind, his hand tugging at my elbow, cautiously pulling me to my feet.

"Giles, did you hear him? Did you hear his voice?"

"Who?"

"That man, Angel. He was here. He was asking for my help," I countered. "Angel? Are you certain he was there, in corporeal form?" Giles questioned, puzzled.

"Positively certain. Giles, what the hell is going on? Does he exist, or not?" I demanded. It didn't take long for him to answer.

"Quite frankly, I think you're the one who's gone completely mad," Giles answered casually, arms folded across his chest as if he didn't express a single care or worry in the world.

"What?" I was bewildered, my mouth agape. "Giles, have you been eating that candy again? I thought we dealt with that already," I scolded.

"Poor little Slayer, aren't you? Thinking as if the universe had gone topsy turvy. It is all in your insignificant mind. The universe is not against you and Angel. I've created that for my personal amusement, of sorts." I noticed distinctively that Giles now held one hand behind his back, as if he were attempting to hide something from view.

Before the last confusing minute could further process in my mind, I felt the hard end of a black oak fighting stick connecting against my head.

I fell into unconsciousness, the image of Giles hovering above me as his smile burned into my mind. It was the last thing I saw.

I suddenly woke up with a gasp, sweat protruding down my face. I felt my hair matted with sweat, and I tossed my covers aside, my eyes peering to a form sleeping next to me. "Buffy, what's wrong?" Angel asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. He stood to his back, placing a kiss on my shoulder.

"Just had a nightmare. Totally gave me the wiggins. Nothing out of the usual."

"What were you dreaming about?"

"That you never existed, and that I never remembered anything about you. These monsters took all my memories away of us, and Giles was telling me how the universe was dead set to keep us apart, and he attacked me with a fighting stick, of all things," I smiled grimly, but I could feel my eyes beginning to moist. And the pain in my chest was coming to the surface at the surrealism of the dream.

I felt Angel taking me into his cold arms, comforting me, soothing the nightmare and fears away. "It's okay, Buffy. It was just a dream. I'm here," Angel soothed against my hair. I inched away and glanced at him, pulling his lips towards mine. I felt relief spread all over.

But a part of me was also reveling in fear. The curse of the Slayer was that one never knew exactly what was a dream, and what was prophetic.

If this nightmare was of the latter, it would only be a matter of time before it became a harsh reality.

Fin.


End file.
